Legacy of a New Age
by Thais of the Star
Summary: The story of two unique twins, and what they discover as they find their powers and a place in their world. Unfortunately DISCONTINUED. Sorry.
1. Prophecy of Destiny

_Disclaimer_: Don't own the World of Two Moons.

_This is the first of three prologue-like chapters, providing information for later in the story._

_**One**_

**Prophecy of Destiny**

"So few, and yet so many," a thistle-headed youth mused softly to himself. Dart gazed at the crystalline wall of the Palace of the High Ones without seeing it. He sat on a bench formed of the same star-stuff all alone, in an unoccupied corner of the magnificent palace, having chosen this small room, lit as all of the mystical ship by the glow of the vessel itself, because of its remoteness. The wolfrider did not wish to speak with anyone right now; he wished to think. Truth be told, he wanted to _breathe_.

So few, so many. Though it seemed like many, in truth few days had passed since the palace and its occupants had left the Wavedancers at their new home site, to build anew what had been shattered in the challenge for chief hood that had started in the conflict and confusion following the strange Recognition of Sunstream, young mystic of Sun Folk and Wolfriders, and Brill, maiden of the Wavedancers. That was over and done with; former chief Surge was content in spirit-form as another eternal inhabitant of the palace, and his son Snakeskin had taken his sea elves to find a new home. Brill had gone with them, with the promise that Sunstream would come to see her often in the palace. Ah, Recognition, Dart sighed. But love had come before Recognition, before they had even touched, the youth reflected.

At any rate, Sunstream was still the only one who could do the task set him by Timmain, last High One, and Savah, near-High One and Mother of Memory to the Sun Folk. Only Sunstream could find and unite all the elves on the World of Two Moons.

Quite an undertaking for one who was just two eights and two, Dart thought, then smiled slightly to himself. Really, he wasn't that much older. And Sunstream had been in Preserver wrapstuff for three turns of the seasons, absorbing all he needed to know. Even his body had changed in that time, to where he was much taller than even his father Cutter.

So few, so many. So few to find so many. Sunstream, guided by Timmain and Savah, with Skywise attending, had to find every last elf on the planet.

So few, so many. One would think, Dart mused as he had often recently, that in the millennium that had passed since the High Ones' great crash landing, their descendants would have covered the entire world. Well, they were almost everywhere, but still, so few tribes. Dart had thought the number of tribes of elves would be unbelievably large, yet Sunstream the number was unbelievably small.

As he had often recently, Dart counted the number of tribes on his fingers.

Wolfriders, Sunfolk, Go-Backs and Wavedancers. A total of five, counting both Cutter's Wolfriders and Ember's segment. The Gliders, except for the odd survivors scattered about this world, were dead; those who survived were loners or attached to another tribe since the fall of Blue Mountain. Well and good, that was plenty already, and those tribes were found before Sunstream had called to all the others. When he had called he had found several more, but not the number many elves had been expecting. An obscure group calling themselves the Wanderers, up north, who were perhaps a branch-off of the Go-Backs. A tribe of elves who each were able to shape-shift into one animal from birth, the Changelings. Then there were the merry Islanders who were always ready to hold a party at the least excuse, and, finally, the shadowy Haunters from the south who could all "go out" at any time.

All told, one eight and one total named tribes. Of course, there were other elves who lived alone or in smaller groups, perhaps a Recognized pair and their children, perhaps a small extended family. They were many. In days when humans were everywhere, the fewer, the better. Less likely to attract attention.

Still, so few. And yet, so many. So many.

Dart let his head lean back and hit the wall of the palace with an irreverent thud. More elves than the tales of humans in the Djun's Citadel during the battle for the palace's shards. So _many_.

A smile twitched the corner of his lips. And more to come. Two spontaneous recognitions already, not even counting Sunstream and Brill. Some thought Leetah's sister Shenshen was mismatched with her new Lifemate Devur, a Changeling who take the form of a hawk, but Dart had accidentally glimpsed the two together, and knew they would do well. The other pair was not a complete surprise, but their Recognition had come at a rather awkward time. Personally, Dart wouldn't be surprised if Timmain or Savah or another magically gifted elf hadn't done something to prompt Clearbrook and Treestump to find each other, but truly, just when the palace had landed to meet a group of wandering elves? Poor timing, but it was clear that the two old, old friends could stand to have their relationship helped along, and this was the perfect way, whether a well-meaning magic-user her assisted them or not.

"Dart?" The wolfrider sat up, smiling as he recognized the voice.

"Hello, Kimo," he greeted his brother in all but blood.

"I'm sorry, but Sunstream sent me to find you." The wolf shape-shifter smiled apologetically. "He plans to visit Brill now. I'm planning to accompany them. We haven't all met the Wavedancers yet, and I'm eager to meet every elf on this world. Cutter agrees; I think he was ecstatic about his uncle, and Leetah's sister." Dart smiled.

"I may as well come," he said, mostly because he didn't really want to move. He didn't want to face the changing world right now, but knew that he had to eventually, and meeting even more new elves was as good a way as any to lift the spirit, especially if what Skywise had said about the Wavedancer maidens was true.

Kimo nodded and left, sensing that Dart wanted to enjoy his last few moments of time alone.

Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply and sighed even more deeply. "It this what it was like for you, Crescent, sister I never knew?" he murmured. "To see so many new faces, and be unsure if you truly want to know them all? Knowing each one will change your life a little bit, and all that will add up to a lot of changes?"

_Yes_.

Dart sat bolt-upright. "Crescent?" he asked, searching the room. There; a flicker of a form in the crystalline wall of the palace. "Is that you?"

_Yes_.

Dart bit his lip. He had often spoken aloud to the spirits of the elves who had died, but this was the first time his long-dead sister, who he had never met, had spoken back to him. He didn't know how to respond.

_Listen, my brother_. He did. _There comes a child who will bear the light of the crescent moon upon her. She will be born in the palace, and you will know that I am with her. She will need my guidance._

"Why?"

_I was killed_, Crescent said, sounding sad. Dart winced, wondering if it was painful for elf spirits to speak of how they died, but she continued. _I was young. But even then, the power slept within me. I never realized my gift, but she will. And she will need me. Promise me something, brother._

"Anything, sister," he whispered.

_Care for her always, and bring her to me when you know the time is right._

"But how will I know?"

Crescent was fading. _You will know…_

"Wait!" Dart stood, reaching for the spirit form.

_Watch for the child_, was all she said.

And then Crescent was gone.

Dart sat alone for a long time. He started when the palace moved, but remained where he was, trying to imprint into his memory what his long-dead sister had said. "I will watch," he promised softly. "Crescent. I will watch for you."

He knew not what fate had in store for either him or the child, but he knew that, whatever it was, the destiny of the child Crescent waited for was unlike any since the days of the High Ones.


	2. Twin Destinies

_Disclaimer_: Don't own the World of Two Moons.

_This is the second of three prologue-like chapters, providing information for later in the story._

_**Two**_

**Twin Destinies**

"Well, it makes sense," Sunstream said, his smile wider than one would have thought possible. He gazed proudly down at the bundle he held, and at the one his mother Leetah cradled. "Both Brill and I are twins, so why would our children not be?"

"Fair enough," the dark-skinned desert healer chuckled. "I'll check on Brill again." Her son carefully took the bundle from his much shorter mother. He maneuvered his twin daughters to rest one in each arm, gazing at them proudly. "Go show off your children," Leetah advised, smiling up at him. "You can come back in, just give her a moment to recover." She winked. "I almost slapped your father when you and your sister were born, but you were worth it."

Sunstream sighed, smiled fading slightly. He gazed on the sleeping Wavedancer maiden lovingly, worriedly, eyes tracing over her form and the spray of hair. The young mystic elf hadn't expected this to be so hard for her. "I didn't want to-"

"She'll be fine," Leetah said patiently. "Just give her the chance to catch her breath."

"All right." Sunstream looked down at the two tiny forms in his arms and his broad smile returned. At last he stepped out of the small chamber in the Palace of the High Ones to greet those who waited eagerly. A surge of his relatives and friends pushed forward, and he had only a chance to nod gratefully to Cutter before he was surrounded; his father had guarded the door, leaving only Leetah, as healer, and Sunstream, as lifemate, to attend the birth of Brill's child- correction, children. Twin daughters.

Even as he held the two small bundles for the others to see (they were careful not to wake the tiny sleepers) Sunstream gazed down at them with fierce pride and love. One babe had perfect bronze skin, slightly flushed, and a spray of deep blue hair; the other moon-pale skin and silver hair just tinged with blue. Earlier, when their eyes had been open briefly, he had marveled at the identicalness of the clear violet; now they were asleep.

"Have you been thinking about names, Sunstream?" Cutter asked, coming over to hold his granddaughters for the first time.

"Crescent." The others looked up in surprise. Dart stood slightly apart from the group; now he came over to gaze at the silvery child his friend held.

"What?" Sunstream asked.

"Crescent," Dart repeated. "Her name." He smiled down at the newborn. "She is the one my sister Crescent is waiting for; she should share her name." Then Dart turned away and left, all the others staring after him.

Sunstream looked at his daughter, who squirmed in her sleep. "Crescent," he whispered.

_I am with her._ He looked up; the young maiden's spirit form glowed from inside the crystalline wall of the palace.

"Is it your wish that she bear your name, Crescent?" Sunstream asked.

_It is. I am watching over her; it is only fitting._

"Fitting indeed," someone murmured from behind Sunstream. He turned to see his mother helping a pale Brill sit on a bench. He quickly stepped to her side, wishing he could put a hand on her shoulder but with his arms full of his daughters. She smiled up at him reassuringly, if a little tiredly. When he looked up, Crescent's spirit was gone.

"Why would she take special interest in our daughter?" he asked, half to himself.

"The ways of all elves are a mystery to me," someone said softly. Shuna, the human Sunstream's parents had adopted, had hung back to be one of the last to greet the new arrivals; even after so many years with the Wolfriders, she was still unsure of her place with them. Now she gently reached out to brush the pale baby's hair from her face.

"The ways of elf spirits are even more mysterious," she continued. "I think I shall never grow accustomed to your speaking with those you say have been dead for thousands of years. In any case, the spirits have never led you astray, and Crescent has already saved my own life once, in warning her parents of the dangers of the old troll caverns. Spirits –living or dead– have their own ways of doing things. But they always mean well." She smiled as the newborn turned in her sleep and clasped her finger in a tiny fist.

Sunstream regarded his tall human sister for a moment, then turned to his twin, his elven sister. Ember nodded, smiling encouragingly. "She would not lead you wrong," the flame-haired elf said, "but this is your choice. Brill?"

"If it is the will of the spirits of the Palace of the High Ones, then let it be so," the Wavedancer said.

Sunstream nodded. "Then so be it." He looked down at his unnamed daughter and went over to Brill, who gently took the blue-haired babe from him.

"What will you name her?" Cutter asked. He and Leetah stood together, watching Sunstream and Brill, reliving glorious moments of their own.

The two looked at each other. "I think that she is a Wavedancer," Sunstream murmured, sliding onto the bench next to her. "You choose." He wrapped her free arm comfortably around her shoulders.

Brill smiled down at her sleepy daughter. "Seaflame."

"It's a lovely name," he whispered into his lifemate's hair. They sat close together, feeling utterly content. They were surrounded by Wavedancers, Wolfriders and Sunfolk, each and every one close kin to one of the new parents. The love they all shared was almost tangible in the aura of the palace's magic, and they were content.

"Crescent and Seaflame," Leetah said. "Welcome to the World of Two Moons."


	3. Dueling Destinies

_Disclaimer_: Don't own the World of Two Moons.

_This is the third of three prologue-like chapters, providing information for later in the story._

**_Three_**

**Dueling Destinies**

Seaflame gazed up at the great expanse of stars as she did every night she was able, and sighed. She was waiting.

_Waiting_ _for_ what? part of herself asked, the taciturn, brooding part. That part of her pushed her away from contact with others, and deep down she knew that it was because she didn't want to be left behind. Not again.

_Waiting for some magic_, her other half whispered back. That was the part that believed in the stories told by elders, that there was someone waiting for her, for everyone, if only she could find them. Someone who wouldn't leave her behind. Someone who wouldn't hurt her, even unintentionally.

_There _is_ no magic in life_, her cold half replied, utterly unimpassioned. _Life is pain, and loss, and sorrow, and regret. There is no real magic._

_Father has magic_, the optimistic half said.

_And look where he is now_, the bitter part snapped back. _Gone- hurting mother, hurting me, hurting Crescent. _Magic_. Huh!_

Seaflame closed her violet eyes and lay her head of glistening long blue hair on the rough rock, listening to the cries of night creatures –they could not harm her, here in the Wavedancer's magic-shaped home– and the roar of the ocean. Oh, the sea! The sea! She felt its pull even now, knew she could never escape it.

And still the stars called, oh, how they called to her! Two songs, two melodies, two forces always at war. And she was caught in the middle, between the ever-changing, sometimes terrifying, glorious ocean, and the eternal, wonderfully enigmatic, glorious stars. Both held a power over her, and she could neither escape nor surrender to either one of her yearnings.

Worse. No one could understand her, or the torn feeling, between the ocean and stars she both worshiped and despised. Everyone else had found their path. The Wavedancers, of course, belonged utterly to the sea, as the immortals who lived in the Palace of the High Ones belonged to the stars, if they wished it to be so. And Wolfriders belonged to the land forest.

Seaflame sighed, eyes still closed. She had never seen the home of her grandfather, in all of her ten years, because of a hidden fear that they, too, would call to her. She knew she would die, torn three ways, if that happened.

She knew that her refusal to fly in the Palace of the High Ones had hurt her parents –twice, as her twin sister Crescent would not leave without her– especially her father Sunstream, who, with his "uncle" Skyewise, still trained with and assisted the High One Timmain in flying the great palace.

Despite the pain she could see in her family's eyes, she could not bring herself to risk being tied in again, could not even enter the palace's magical aura without feeling as if the song of the stars would overwhelm her and pull her from the sea that she loved so much, the sea she never wanted to leave. Her family respected her wishes, but she knew it hurt them.

But they just didn't understand. No one did. No one else could. Only she.

_Is this what it's like to be homesick?_ she asked herself at times. But she couldn't go home, because she didn't know what home was. The sea or the stars? The life-long question rang in her mind again, and as always she could not answer.

Sea? Or stars?

There _was_ no answer, not for her.

At last Seaflame sat up with a sigh. Sitting here pondering a feeling no one else could comprehend wasn't doing anything for herself or anyone else. She really should go to bed, or at least do something besides sit here and feel sorry for herself.

Still, tonight the feeling was harder to ignore than it usually was. She couldn't bring herself to leave her rock, where the song of the stars and the song of the sea blended in perfect harmony for no apparent reason, almost drowning each other out. Seaflame couldn't say why this particular spot gave her comfort. It simply brought the songs together in a way that their music did not clash, and she could be at peace with both ocean and sky.

The young blue-haired elf couldn't understand any of it, and she had given up trying to speak to others about the power of the songs at a very early age. They didn't understand, no matter how hard she tried, so she withdrew into herself, where it was safe, and they didn't look at her strangely because she knew something, felt something, they could not. She withdrew from the people around her, spending time alone, trying to puzzle out the dueling songs and their meanings and their fluctuations and nuances. The struggle to hold herself together aged her beyond the mere decade she had been alive.

And through it all, she was never truly alone.

Crescent was always there for her. Crescent, her sister, her twin, whose soul was as one with her own. Silver-haired, pale, violet-eyed Crescent, who, though she did not share the pull of the stars versus the ocean that Seaflame did, understood the effects. Even as small children, they always stood together. Seaflame, bearing the weight of those two cursed songs, had been made fiery and, at times, melancholy, always alone except for her shy, gentle silvery shadow.

There was nothing the twin sisters would not do for each other. They were the only ones who understood each other completely, who always knew what would help, be it silent companionship, some cheering, an embrace, or even solitude. They were each other's only comfort, at times when not even their mother or often-absent father could give that solace.

The connection between Seaflame and Crescent surpassed any bond of kinship. They were always together, even when they didn't consciously connect, the other sister was always there for her twin.

Without the twins' bond, Seaflame felt she could not have survived even for the measly ten years she had. Certainly, she was not unscathed by the cruel power both sea and stars held over her. At this age she was far from a carefree youngster; the calling songs had taken their toll on her, making her aloof, just so that she could preserve her sanity. She had learned that if people did not get close to her, they would not try –and, therefore, fail– to understand. Only Crescent could be close. Only Crescent could understand.

Even Brill, their mother, was somewhat at a loss when it came to her distant, distracted daughter. She knew the pull of her lifemate and the pull of the sea she literally could not live without, but she had chosen, as had Sunstream. They had crafted their lives around each other, and were content.

Seaflame had never known real contentment, had never known true peace. Even at quiet moments, there were always two songs pulling her in opposite directions; they kept her on edge constantly, never able to relax as utterly as she desperately desired. And even shy Crescent could only do so much for her twin, when the calls sounded the fiercest.

There were some things you had to face alone.

Still, Seaflame had been able to coexist with the songs around her thus far, and she knew that one day she would choose between the two, and she would find the peace her soul yearned for. However much it hurt, however deeply the songs cut her soul, she was willing to face it all. Because she knew that one day she would find the magic in her own life that she had lost.

One day, she would hear two songs, and answer one of them.

One day, she would find a way to be free of the songs.


	4. First Steps on the Path of Destiny

_Disclaimer_: Don't own the World of Two Moons.

_This is the first chapter in the actual story; consider the previous three chapters as a set of prologues._

**_Four_**

**First Steps on the Path of Destiny**

"We need to know."

Sunstream looked at his daughters, seventeen and each as tall as he now. He saw in the pair a trace of the iron that ran in all his family from the Wolfrider side. All of them shared a backbone of steel; his twin sister Ember, their father Cutter, and the long-dead Wolfrider chief Bearclaw. Each was capable of facing down someone like Winnowill or a creature like Madcoil. Indeed, they had done so.

He sensed that they felt this was some kind of test, to face the fear they had denied for so long, but there was really no reason they had to prove themselves to him. It was to themselves that they had to prove themselves.

Sunstream studied the twins, so alike, yet so different, to not only themselves but also their parents. Truly, these two were unique. Seaflame shone out boldly as she stood on the wave-pounded shore; the ocean wind tossed her vibrant blue hair, and her violet gaze was unfaltering, eyes shinning with determination in a naturally golden-tan face. Beside her, Crescent's light was softer, and though her pale skin and pearly silver hair had their own uniqueness, her eyes were the same as her twin's. Seaflame would have seemed to outshine her shy sister, but for the glow the pale girl seemed to give off, drawing eyes to her quiet beauty without her intentionally trying to attract attention.

So alike, so different. It was truly amazing. And their strength surprised him. It shouldn't really, but it did. Here they were, asking completely unexpectedly to do the very thing they had avoided their entire lives. Sunstream felt a surge of pride for his daughters.

"We have to know," Crescent repeated in her soft but strong voice, violet eyes shining earnestly. "Please."

Sunstream stepped forward and folded them into his arms. "Of course," he murmured. "If you believe you are ready, then you are." He gave them a last squeeze and stepped back. "When?"

"Now," Seaflame said firmly. "It needs to be now."

Sunstream nodded. "So be it."

000

Minutes later, the three –the twins' mother Brill was under heavy guard by the Wavedancer due to her late stage of her second pregnancy, though she was literally there in spirit-form– were stepping across the threshold of the Palace of the High Ones. Crescent followed their father through the magical barrier holding back the seawater with barely any hesitation whatsoever; she had no qualms about entering for the first time, and it was only because she would not leave her twin under any circumstances –despite urgings and protests by all in the family– that had kept her out of the crystalline vessel for their seventeen years.

Seaflame hung back for a moment, uncertain. She had lived her entire life unwilling and unable to answer the two calls that sang to her, that of the sea, of the World of Two Moons, and that of the stars, the magic of the High Ones. Steeling herself for the strain when the star song increased as she anticipated, she pierced the magical barrier and stepped into the palace.

As soon as she left the water, the young sea-elf blinked. Instead of a strengthening of the call of the stars and a retaliatory heightening of the pull of the sea, both songs faded to a range she was well able to ignore with her experience in dealing with them. In fact, she could not remember the last time they had been so soft she had been able to push them almost entirely from her mind. All her life they had dueled in her head and heart, and, unable to explain to others and loath to tell the such an unbelievable story, she had withdrawn from all except her twin simply to keep her sanity.

For the first time in so long that she could no longer remember, she smiled genuinely. Sunstream frowned slightly, then smiled. He seemed to expect some reaction to the palace's aura –which she could feel as well, quite a separate welcoming, home coming feeling than the more dramatic lessening of the grip stars and sea held– and probably was dismissing her reaction as one of a first-time visitor to the palace.

Then Seaflame looked around, seeing that Crescent was watching with a smile. _You feel it even more than I do_, she sent to her twin's mind. It was a statement.

_The songs have softened_, the blue-haired elf replied, just as silently. _It's- it's_… Words failed her as she turned back to look at the sea, hiding the tears in her eyes. This place was truly wondrous, to work such a miracle that she had longed to be possible for so long. _I can't explain_, she murmured hesitantly. _But I just can't believe I waited this long to come here._

Crescent's violet eyes, mirrors of her own, softened even further. _I know_. She smiled. _So we'll come back?_

_Definitely_, Seaflame assured her, basking in the relief of the song's near absence. She got herself back under control and turned around to flash a smile at her twin, then at her father. The assembled Sunfolk behind, her father's mother's folk, parted suddenly as two impossibly tall, stately figures made their way to the fore.

_Timmain_, Crescent whispered.

_Savah_, Seaflame added, just as awed.

Neither of the young elves had ever seen these two, and the sight was striking. Timmain was pale, as their father had shown she always was in sending-pictures, enrobed by her long hair, the silver color of which seemed almost to match the crystal of the palace itself. Savah, Mother of Memory second only to the High Ones herself, wore a golden dress of a light material that seemed to float about her, and highlighted her dark skin. Her hair was hidden beneath the dress's hood and golden crown.

Sunstream, from the sidelines watched his daughters' faces, and suddenly realized they were a near parallel for the two eldest of elves: one fair as the moon, one dark, but no less beautiful. Of course, Seaflame's blue hair was different, and their was a clear discrepancy in height between the pairs. Even still… So alike, so different.

The mother of the Wolfriders and the mother of the Sunfolk stepped forward, smiling. "Welcome at last, children," the pale-skinned immortal said as the two tall elves stretched out their hands to the younger ones in a gesture of welcome. "We have been waiting for the day when you would come to us."

"You are the only two elves now on the World of Two Moons who have not yet entered the Palace of the High Ones," Savah continued. Seaflame blushed, looking aside. "We are glad that you have come." Seaflame noticed the smoothness with which the two most ancient of elves spoke and moved as if they were one being. She wondered briefly what their link was.

"Do you believe that you are ready?" Timmain asked now. "What you will learn today may change the course of history, depending on the actions you take with the knowledge you may be given."

"We believe we are now ready," Seaflame replied for bother herself and her twin, solemn and respectful, her words taking on an almost ritualistic measure to match that of Savah's and Timmain's. "We cannot promise that we will not make a mistake, but we can promise that we will act on the knowledge that you give us only after seeking the wisdom of those who can aid us in making a decision."

"The time may come when there will be no time for counsel," Savah warned. "When a delay may prove disastrous for more than one life."

"Then we shall promise to act with all the wisdom we possess in the interests of all involved," Seaflame said. "Will that be enough?"

Savah and Timmain nodded. "It is all we can ask," the eldest said. "It will have to suffice."

"Come," the ancient elves said in unison, turning away.

Seaflame and Crescent followed. The twins reached out and touched minds for mutual strength and comfort. Those who followed shared the knowledge that this day could shape all their fates– and, perhaps, the fate of the World of Two Moons.


	5. Parting of Destinies

_Disclaimer_: Don't own the World of Two Moons.

**_Five_**

**Parting of Destinies**

_I have been waiting for you_. The twin elves now sat on a bench made out of the palace's wall, seeking out Crescent's namesake, the long-dead first daughter of Wolfriders Strongbow and Moonshade. _It is good that you have finally decided to come; the time to act is approaching._

Seaflame unconsciously tightened her fingers on her sister's, and felt the same pressure in reply. She wasn't sure how to respond to the dead elf's spirit manifestation, the transparent presence just visible in the wall of the palace as a pale shadow, but it didn't seem to matter. Dead Crescent knew what she was doing.

_I must speak alone to your sister_, she said, directly to to Seaflame. _I understand that you do not wish to be separated_, she added as Seaflame was about to protest, _but you are needed elsewhere at this time._

_It's all right_, living Crescent sent to her sister, squeezing her hand again before letting go. _I had a feeling… that this is something we have to do by ourselves._

Seaflame looked at her pale, shy sister. Something had changed about her all of the sudden. Perhaps it was the presence of her namesake, perhaps the palace's aura, but something was different. She was… stronger-seeming, more confident.

_All right_, the blue-haired elf conceded. She stood.

_Follow me_, a new voice sent. Seaflame saw a flicker of another elf spirit form and did as –she?– asked, though she didn't particularly like parting from her sister.

The formless being lead her to another room, where Seaflame sat on a bench and waited as patiently as she could. _Doubtless you are wondering many things_, the dead elf sent. _All will be made clear to you. Let me first tell you that you must not reveal what I will impart to you unless it is of the utmost importance, because some things should never be revealed, lest the path of this world's history be shifted._

Seaflamce took a deep breath and nodded.

_Good_. The vaporous spirit began to shimmer. _For this I will take on a corporeal form_. Seaflame was about to ask what she meant, but stopped as a bright light began to shine. She thought she could make out a body, seemingly made of that same light, but it brightened too much and she had to look away. When the piercing brilliance faded she looked back. _Well, a somewhat corporeal form, at any rate_, the dead elf said, sounding somewhat amused.

Seaflame was speechless. Now, where the ghostly elf spirit had been, stood the translucent figure of an elf maiden. She wore a gown like that of the Sun Folk, a delicate construction of silver and white, which seemed to float about her. Her hair, too, long golden tresses, seemed unconstrained by gravity, as if she was under water. As if the lack of connection to the world was not already emphasized enough, she seemed not to touch the ground. A slight smile touched her face and blue eyes as she surveyed herself.

_Better_, she sent, sounding satisfied. Then she turned to Seaflame.

"I didn't know you could do that," the blue-haired elf started to say, but the other elf cut her off with a shake of her head.

_Send_, she told her, mind to mind.

_Why?_

_I cannot hear you otherwise; I am deaf_, the elf sent matter-of-factly. _Or I was so in life_, she amended.

_Oh_.

The elf laughed humorlessly, but it echoed only in Seaflame's mind. _My world is one of silence_, she said.

Seaflame found her mental voice. _Who _are_ you? And why do you need me?_

_My name is Rillfisher. Do you remember?_

"Rillfisher…?" Of course! Treestump's mate; Dewshine's mother! She was deafened by a sickness, and the healer Rain had been unable to help her. Then one day a branch gave way as she walked beneath it and killed her. Seaflame knew the story briefly. _But what do you need from me?_

A sudden flash of piercingly brilliant light, emanating briefly but sharply from Rillfisher, and Seaflame fell to the floor, unconscious.

000

_It has been many years since my death_, the formless spirit sent to the living maiden named in her honor. _It has taken me a long time to understand all that I now know, and I can only hope you will be able to accept all in such a short period of time as this._

_I will do my best_, the silver-haired elf sent sincerely.

_That is all that I can ask of you_. She seemed to hesitate. _First, let me tell you of myself, as I lived, and as I am now._

_You have probably already been told that I was killed many long years ago, during the time of the feud between Wolfriders and the primitive humans who had come to our forest. At the time, I was as young as you are now, and unknowledgeable about the ancient powers of the High Ones. How could I know? The only magics used by the elves of our tribe for many generations were plant-shaping and healing, so how was I to know of the incredibly rare gift that I unknowingly possessed? It was a gift that was to destroy me- and, nearly, all those that I loved._

_My family believes that I perished at the hands of a hunting party of our invading enemies while fishing in the stream._

_This is not the case._

_I learned later that they heard me sending to them, and that they heard my mind-scream and felt nothing more, and after finding my clothes and blood assumed that I was dead. I learned that Bearclaw saw a new skull on the Pillar of Sacrifice when he went to gain vengeance for my 'death,' and that he believed it to be mine._

_In truth, I was alive, but gone from them. Dead to them. And dead I was to remain._

_I still remember it very clearly. I had finally speared the fish, and was proud, ready to share my catch with my parents and tribe. As I surfaced from the water I began to send to them. Something caught my attention and I turned, crying out in fear as a shadowy form loomed over me._

_After that, I never again while living made contact with my family._

_I tried to fight back, but was wounded slightly so that I was distracted, and they captured me. I did not know then who they were, but I didn't try to find out, assuming as my tribe later assumed that they were humans, though they had masked their scent and I could not take the time to count fingers. One of them did something to my mind, and they took me away, unconscious and unable to tell my family that I was alive._

_So they read the clues that they understood, and interpreted them in the only way they could. I was dead, taken by the humans. It was over. Death is an enemy none can overcome once it has taken us._

_For me, however, it was far from the ending._

_My quest was about to begin._

_And none could say how far it would take me._


End file.
